Chapter 7: Back Home

I drove home in a daze, arriving in my driveway suddenly and not remembering how I had gotten there. I noticed my dad’s SUV was gone so one or both of them must be gone and it turned out to be my father as my mom was in the kitchen having some desert when I walked in. One look at my disheveled outfit, messy hair and tear-streaked face and she instantly jumped up and hugged me.

“Oh god Kelly, what happened?” she cried, “What did that bastard do to you?”

I broke down in tears again and sobbed onto her shoulder as she hugged me tightly. What was I going to tell her? I wasn’t crying from the fucking he had given me, the spanking or the slap on my hand which was still red. I think I was crying because I had looked into a mirror and wasn’t sure if I liked what I saw. I was shocked that I could be read so thoroughly by Pastor Ken, that he could know me so intimately.

It’s hard to think of yourself as being unique and different and then out of the blue have someone classify you like a bug in a museum collection, especially when you find that you fit so neatly in the display case.

My mom and I talked for hours that night. I knew that I would be talking more to Pastor Ken though. My mother relates to me as a woman but we are too much in love for her to strip me down into pieces the way Pastor Ken had done so quickly and skillfully. Once the shock wore off I, I realized that I wanted to hear more about myself from someone who could look into my soul and extract my inner being, only to throw it in my face to be questioned and debated. I doubted I would be changing my outlook on sex but it never hurts to understand yourself better.

So ... what do you think? Do you know yourself? Are you ready? To paraphrase those immortal words of Jack Nickelson, “Can you handle the truth?”